Endi stepped through the gate and took his first deep breath of the air of an industrial city. Petrol exhaust, ozone, dust, rubber, wharfs, brain-fried staggering drunks . . .

“See, tol ya it was Aliens beaming down to eat our brains. But did you run? Noooooo . . . ” the man, bald on top with the faded remains of grey hair straggling greasily down to his shoulders paused in puzzlement, possibly with the realization that he hadn’t run either.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same. Morning, gentlemen.” Endi glanced over his shoulder, and tossed a quick illusion behind him. The gate was turned a bit away from the three men, and from the back it would have looked like he’d stepped out of thin air. The illusion would keep it that way, until they’d figured out where to put it.

He pulled out a hip flask, uncorked it and handed it across the alley. Fortunately the only people to see them arrive weren’t reliable witnesses. In fact, they were probably the most useful people the newcomers could have encountered.

The three . . . winos or whatever they were called here, passed the flask around, and handed it back. Empty, of course.

“Good stuff! Well hey, I guess you Space Aliens aren’t so bad after all.”

His language was a mix of Arbish and Anglish. Perfectly understandable, and no doubt they’d quickly pick up which words were supposed to be which language.

The two others nodded.

“Got any more of that?” the one with the dark hair asked.

“Not with me, I’m afraid.” Endi shrugged. “And I just got here, so I don’t know anything about the money here, either. What do they use for money? Do you know where I can sell some gold?”

If you haven’t already gotten sucked in… grab it! Be prepared, you will want the rest of the stories. Wine of the Gods, The Directorate, Doors into the Dimensions… all Pam’s series are just soo much fun! Go ahead, try that free taste, and then get the rest, and enjoy!